Sing It Again!
by juxtaposed
Summary: A spell's gone awry and Hogwarts is turned into a living musical! Everyone ends up singing and dancing, whether they want to or not, and reveal their deepest darkest secrets, whether they want to or not. HD SLASH. On Hiatus.
1. Oh, Shite!

**Title: **Sing It Again!

**Author: juxtaposed**

**Summary: **A spell gone awry makes the residents of Hogwarts spontaneously burst into song and dance, revealing their thoughts, emotions, and deepest, darkest secrets. Chaos ensues. But what do the souls of two certain enemies hold, and what will happen when they are forced to confront their feelings?

**Rating: **PG-13

**Warnings:** _Slash!!_ And incessant singing and dancing.

**Pairings:** Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of the characters or locations that you recognize from the _Harry Potter_ books, the entire little HP world belongs to **JK Rowling** and her affiliates. The idea and plot stems vaguely from _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_'s musical episode, Once More With Feeling, and I do not own that either – **Joss Whedon** and _his _affiliates have that honour. Songs used in this story will be credited to the respective artists, cause, guess what? I don't own those either. However, the entire _story_ in itself, the _original _compositions, as well as the _manipulations_ of songs, _do_ belong to me.

Now, on with the show...

* * *

**Sing It Again!**

by** juxtaposed**

Prologue: Oh, _Shite!_

"Mate, are you sure you're doing that right?"

A hushed whisper sounded from an empty classroom, where only the glowing tip of a wand illuminated a pair of heads, one dark and one fairly sandy, huddled together in the far corner, away from the prying eyes of any passers-by.

"Pretty sure I am." A second voice replied, sounding rather nonchalant.

"Then why isn't anything happening?"

Pause.

"Hmm. I'm not sure. Maybe we should try it again."

"That might not really be the smartest thing to do, mate. If it's already failed…" The first voice trailed off anxiously.

"Now, now, don't jump to conclusions. How can you tell that it's failed?"

"The lack of the intended result kind of tipped me off."

"Pfft." The second voice was dismissive. "Small matter. I'm sure I'll get it this time."

"Alright…but are you sure you got the right spell, mate?"

"Well, I think I do…the incantation is _biboo_, right?"

Silence.

The second voice sounded a little desperate. "Right?"

Silence.

_"Right?"_

"We're screwed." The first voice came out strangled, with no small amount of panic thrown in, and a rising note of hysteria. The second was quick to refute.

"No, no, no…don't say that. What's wrong? What did I do wrong?"

There was a loud sigh, then the first voice muttered darkly, "I _knew_ I should have been the one to cast it. You barely passed Charms as it was."

"Hey, I'm getting much better." The second voice was defensive, then a little hesitant as it continued. "What did I do wrong?"

A sort of growl issued from the first voice. "The incantation is _bibo_, you git!"

There was a long pause.

"Oh, _shite_. Then what the hell did I just _do_?"

Silence again.

It was two hours later before the extremely worn-out forms of one Seamus Finnigan, and one Dean Thomas dragged themselves into the Gryffindor common room.

* * *

The next morning at Hogwarts was unforgettable.

It began innocently enough. It was breakfast time, and all the students were gathered, and Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, had stood up to make a general announcement, as he always did.

That was when the chaos began.

As he clinked on his glass lightly and opened his mouth to speak, there was a sudden flute-like melody, then a very jaunty sort of tune piercing the air, sounding throughout the Great Hall as if blared from those Muggle speakers, and yet coming from no discernable source. Then the entire hall fell into complete darkness, except for a spotlight – again from an unknown source – that fell onto the Headmaster, who then proceeded to make his announcement – completely in verse, and in tune with the rather pretty, if outdated, music in the background, that seemed to serve as an accompaniment to his singing.

> _"Good morning, dear students,  
__I trust you all slept well?  
__No matter, really, dear friends,  
__This day will still be swell!_
> 
> _I shan't take up too much time today,  
__I'll get straight to the point -   
__There will be a Quidditch match on Friday  
__And you're all welcome to join._
> 
> _The match will be with Slytherin  
__Playing against Ravenclaw,  
__If you want to watch who wins,  
__Show up at the pitch at four!_
> 
> _Now please bear with me,  
__This won't last much longer  
__For I know you must be hungry_   
_But I have one last reminder -"_

But that wasn't the oddest part.

The oddest part was when he reached what appeared to be the chorus.

> "_Inter-House Unity  
__We are striving for   
__Inter-House unity  
__So you must all  
__Put aside your differences  
__Lay away prejudices  
__Forget all preconceptions  
__Ignore misguided notions  
__And strive for  
__Inter-House Unity!"_

As this began, other spotlights fell onto the rest of the staff table, and the entire staff had stood up, linked arms, and began to sway from side-to-side, singing along with Dumbledore. At the last line, they all simultaneously threw their hands into the air and did 'jazz hands'.

Throughout it all, the students had taken out their wands, and with the ends lit, begun waving them side to side, creating hundreds of little flickering glows in the pitch-blackness.

And then, as abruptly as it began, it all ended.

The Hall was back to its usual state of early morning; the music and spotlights had vanished. The Headmaster and all the teachers, were, however, all still standing up, and all the students still had their wands out.

There was a brief moment of silence, during which the students exchanged curious and confused glances, and the professors took the opportunity of to sit down with as much dignity as they could muster.

Then a great buzzing spread across the tables:

"What just happened?"

"That was freaky - "

" – couldn't control myself - "

" – like being possessed - "

" – you see Snape?"

" – where'd the lights come from?"

" – dark magic - "

" – funny song, though."

A few minutes of this, and a quick discussion with the staff, later, Dumbledore stood up again, claiming everybody's attention. Before he began talking, the Headmaster quickly shot a look up around him, ensuring that he wasn't about to break out into song again.

"Er, may I have your attention once again, students?" A quick glance across the hall showed that he already did, so he quickly continued, his gaze flickering up to the ceiling every once in a while, although he remained completely composed, and that darned twinkle was still in his eyes.

"Thank you. Well, that was rather unexpected, and I know several of you are fearing the worst, but I can assure you that while the source remains unknown as of yet, you have nothing to fear. We have not detected any dark magic in this. It is most likely a prank or spell gone awry - " At this, he cast a subtle glance to the Gryffindor table, at two boys in particular, his eyes never losing their twinkle. "And will eventually resolve itself in due time."

And at the Gryffindor table, said boys exchanged glances, before one leaned over to the other.

"Don't know how he knows it was us, but guess we know what your spell did, mate."

The dark haired, dark skinned boy seemed almost amused. The sandy-haired boy, on the other hand, was an unearthly shade of white.

"Oh, _shite_."

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**AN:** _So, that's how this all begins...This is why you shouldn't mess with magic, kids. Anyway, let me know what you thought of this story with a **review**, pretty please?_

**AN:** _Oh, and the song in this chapter **does** belong to me, just in case it wasnt obvious enough in its appaling-ness. Review! Thanks!_


	2. Of Portraits and Potions

AN:_ For the_ **summary, pairings, rating**_, and_ **disclaimer**_, see the previous chapter. _

_I will, however, give you another _**warning**_: **Slash **will eventually ensue, and in the meantime there will be **relentless** singing and dancing!_

__

* * *

**Sing It Again!**

by** juxtaposed**

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Chapter One: Of Portraits and Potions Class

Just before lessons were about to begin, the corridors of Hogwarts were full of swarming students, all excitedly chattering about the 'incident' in the Great Hall at breakfast. Among said students were one Harry Potter, one Hermione Granger and one Ronald Weasley, also found discussing the earlier events.

"That was crazy." Hermione declared, shaking her head, sending her wild curls bouncing madly.

Ron nodded. "I know. Do you reckon it'll happen again?"

Just then, the trio walked past a rather large portrait, in which all the subjects had taken to linking arms and kicking their legs up in the air, in sync, doing a dance that looked suspiciously like the can-can. Then two of the people in the portrait begun harmonizing in song.

_"Oh, you all walk past everyday  
__But never pay attention to us  
__Are we that forgettable?"_

Then they each did a little solo line, and it appeared, that despite how agreeable they seemed, what with singing and dancing together and all, they really weren't terribly fond off each other. In fact, they appeared to be rivals.

_"I've fought great wars in my day  
__- While I know a multitude of curses -  
__Of course you do, you're evil!_

_Oh, is that what you really think of me  
__ - after all this time of living together?_

_Yes, its true, I can't stand you, honestly  
__You're a goddamn awful wanker!_

_Well at least I -"_

He began to spew out a whole lot of very interesting words and descriptions that made a Hufflepuff girl nearby blush bright red, squeal, and run off. However, Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't seem to notice anything amiss at all, and kept on walking and talking amongst themselves.

"I guess so," Harry was saying, in an answer to Ron's question earlier. "I think it'll probably be going on for quite a while, based on what Dumbledore said."

"Probably," Hermione agreed. "Now, come on, we're going to be late for Potions."

"And we wouldn't want _that_," Harry said wryly, exchanging a look with Ron, who chuckled before a wide smirk crossed his face. "What is it?" he asked.

Ron's smirk widened. "I wonder if Snape'll start singing in class. It should be good for blackmailing purposes, I'd think."

He and Harry grinned identical wicked grins of delight.

"Somehow I rather doubt that you actually do, but if that's what it'll take to get you to Potions on time, then so be it. Let's hurry!" Hermione cut in, giving them a look to silence them from plotting further before they ran down to the dungeons.

It was only at the entrance to class that Ron spun to face Hermione. "Wait a minute, were you implying earlier that I don't think?"

"Took you long enough," Hermione gave him a sweet smile as Harry snorted, and they walked into the class, with Ron trailing behind, his face slightly pink. He looked like he might say something, but Snape was already in the front of the class, and he kept his mouth shut.

However, it appeared he was one of the few who did, for a large group of students were still speculating about the "breakfast incident", ignoring Professor Snape's murderous glares. That is, until;

"Silence!" he barked. The entire class obeyed immediately, and the offending students stared at him nervously. "Five points each from everyone involved." There was a brief murmur of protest, but the expression on Snape's face quieted them. "Now, if I hear even one syllable about this morning's events, it will be twenty points. Your partners, and the potion you are to prepare today is on the board. You will do this in complete silence; I do not want to risk another impromptu performance. If any of you do, or say, anything, and I mean _anything_, that might spark off one, it will be a week's detention with Filch!"

The entire class stared at him. He glared back. "Well, what are you waiting for? Begin!"

They begun.

Hermione and Ron let out a sigh of relief at being paired up together. Dean stifled a groan as he moved to sit with Neville. Seamus and Blaise exchanged appraising looks, before both concluding that _hey, it could have been worse_ and sitting together. Crabbe and Goyle shrugged as they respectively moved to Pansy and Milicent.

Which of course, left Draco and Harry to eye each other warily before setting up their equipment.

The entire class moved in complete silence, as instructed, and began to prepare the ingredients for the potion – ironically enough, a Silencing Solution. The only sounds that were heard in the dungeons were knives slicing through mandrake roots and the clinking of glass vials.

Of course, the whole time, they were all holding their breath slightly, hoping, just a little, that maybe, just maybe, someone – Neville, perhaps – would do something that would cause a repeat of the morning's events. Everyone _so_ wanted to see Snape sing.

And, if possible, dance.

A week's detention with Filch was about as bad as it could get, really.

But maybe, just maybe, wouldn't it be worth it?

With that thought, and a rather cheeky '_besides, I'm his favorite student_' in mind, it was none other than one Draco Malfoy who shifted in his seat and nudged Harry surreptitiously. The raven-haired boy eyed him suspiciously, but Draco simply tilted his head ever-so-slightly at their teacher, and gave Harry a pointed look. Harry frowned for a moment, then a smirk crossed his lips, and he nodded.

Harry honestly had no idea what Draco wanted when he felt a sharp elbow in his side, but the blonde had indicated the Potions Master would be involved, and when Harry had seen the look on Draco's face – _must be what Slytherins look like when they plot_, he mused – he found himself unable to resist the idea of watching their frigid professor bursting into song, _detention be damned_. And so, much to his own surprise, really, he had found himself nodding conspiratorially with Draco Malfoy.

With assurance of cooperation from Harry, Draco raised a hand and, with a wink he didn't quite know why he was giving, "accidentally" knocked over an entire jar full of bobotuber extract. Half of the contents spilt into their cauldron, and the other half was dangerously close to splattering on Lavender and Parvati, had it not been for Snape, who had looked up at the noise, and quickly yelled out a freezing charm. The extract froze in place, before falling to the floor and shattering upon impact.

"Dra - Mr. Malfoy!" Snape snapped. Draco looked up with what he hoped was an innocently-guilty expression. Snape glowered at him, and briefly at Harry. He seemed to want to yell at the pair, but caught himself right as he opened his mouth. He stole a quick glance around, trying to calculate if he would be unfortunate enough to have to sing, if he simply said just a quick "After class."

He was.

At the mention of those two words, a light guitar-and-piano tune was struck, accompanied by a rhythmic drumbeat. It was a very soulful sort of R&B track, and the class all had to suppress grins and laughter as Snape adjusted his grip on his wand so that he was now holding it like a microphone.

And then Snape began to sing.

* * *

AN: _Oh, I know. I am horridly wicked for leaving it at that. (snicker) I couldn't help it, I'm sorry. But **review** anyway? If you're mad at me for cliffhanging, you can yell at me there. If you want me to get my ass in gear and get the next chapter out, well, you can bug me there too. Oh, I know. I'm a shameless review whore. (more snickering) Oblige me anyway? **Review!**_

_Many many **thanks** go out to my reviewers, **hydrangea, KatFay, unregistered person, MaliciousMisery, LyddieIt, Jeffrey Granger, yayness, jess **and** dugong** (Shut up. It was not.), for the nice reviews - they make me happy. And happy me equals happy muse, and you guys can guess where that leads. Yep, more madness. Anyhoo. Love and cookies to you all!_


	3. Professor S Snape, Soul Singer Extraordi...

AN: _For the_ **summary, pairings, ratings**_, refer to the first chapter_.

Another **warning** now, though: eventual _slash_, and for now...the fearsome Potions Professor, _singing_. You have been warned. And no, I wont hold it against the weaker-hearted ones if you are hastily clicking on your back button now.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own the HP characters - I'm just playing puppeteer with **JK Rowling**'s wonderful creations. The uncontrollable-singing plot was borrowed from the brilliant **Joss Whedon**. Final disclaimer at the bottom.

* * *

**Sing It Again!**

by **juxtaposed**

Chapter Two: Professor S. Snape, Soul Singer Extraordinaire?

Severus Snape was, by far, the most terrifying teacher at Hogwarts – well, discounting Voldemort in Quirrell's turban and Crouch Jr. He was the single professor able to make an entire classroom burst into tears with just one furious glare – granted, they were Hufflepuffs, but they cried, all the same – and the only one able to cause numerous cases of seat-wetting with an angry growl. This was a reputation he had worked hard to gain, and one he was inexplicably proud of. He took great care at maintaining his creepy, intimidating, greasy Potions Master persona; it gave him much pleasure – and no small amount of leverage – to be the one faculty member to clear paths of fright whenever he stalked the halls.

As such, he was not very happy to find himself posing – _posing!_ he thought contemptuously – in the middle of his beloved Potions lab, hip cocked out provocatively, hands resting on either side, with his chest thrown forward and his head bowed down dramatically low, as the music began, and he awaited his cue.

When a certain drumbeat had sounded, he flung his chin up and spared a smoldering glance around the room, licking his lips as they curved into a smirk, before parting open as he began his song.

"_Draco, Potter, detention tonight  
Oh, you knew that you had it coming  
For making me sing  
And forced to have to hold this note longer  
It's getting stronger and stronger  
And when I get that feeling  
I want serious retribution  
And student terrorizing  
Makes me feel so fine  
Helps to relieve my mind…"_

Snape, to everyone's surprise – including his own – was really quite a fantastic singer. His low, silky, drawling voice made for a smooth, rich baritone, and coupled with the innate sensuality of the music, he was – and there simply wasn't another word for it – sexy. Dead sexy.

And this, of course, terrified everyone to no end.

Especially since, much to their horror, it was coupled with the fact that they were seemingly indentured by forces unknown to dance.

This was all happening at once, so it was a little bit chaotic, what with their Potions professor still belting out his song, with a certain sort of gusto that was rather frightening, really. Especially when they listened to the lyrics.

"_Student terrorizing really is good for me  
Student terrorizing is something that's good for me  
Whenever potion drops are falling  
And my emotional stability is leaving me  
There is something I can do  
I can give you weeks of detention, deduct points, and  
Gryffindors I know you'll be there to relieve me  
The glares you give to me will free me  
Cause you don't know the things you're dealing  
And I can tell you now that it's simply appalling!_" 

And despite the utter inappropriateness of it, particularly given the nature of the words being sung, they weren't simply swaying along to the tune. Oh, no. They were bumping and grinding, as the music seemed to demand. Slowly, slinkily, and rather stirringly.

This wasn't so bad for some of them, when they were compelled to move towards – and partner up with – the people closest to them. Ron and Hermione, for example, were all but groping each other, with nary a complaint. Dean and Neville had been behind Lavender and Parvati, and none of them seemed at all upset. Crabbe and Goyle were dancing extremely awkwardly with Milicent and Pansy, but they seemed satisfied with their partner.

Of course, there was that tiny little fact that the Potions classroom had slightly more boys than girls – a rather glaring unbalance at that moment. Seamus and Blaise, nonetheless, began to dance together.

And, much to their extreme consternation, so did Draco and Harry.

"_And now, now you're, landed, with a, detention tonight  
In the, dungeons, at eight, and you, better do it right  
Or you'll be dead before morning  
Trust that you don't want to cross me  
Because I think my patience is dying  
And my anger just rising and rising  
And when I get that feeling  
I want serious retribution…_" 

As their normally forbidding professor sang with an unexpected heat, the class had turned into a scene from a rather salacious dance club, the type Muggles often patronized. The dancing had turned from suggestive and rousing to downright raunchy and hedonistic. There was exchanging of heated glances, there was brushing of skin, there was writhing of bodies. And rather inexplicably, the normally cool dungeons had heated up when the song had started, and were now as warm as Trelawney's sweltering attic classroom.

"_Student terrorizing is good for me  
Makes me feel so fine, it's such a rush  
Helps to relieve the mind, and it's good for us  
Yes, terrorizing students is good for me  
Student terrorizing is something that's good for me  
And it's good for me and it's good to me_

_Detention ohhh  
Gives me control, it never gets old  
No matter how many times  
Always feels like the first hit  
It's a rush and I feel fine  
Its my medicine but I do the dealing  
Detention, yes its great  
Can never wait for it to operate  
You'd better be, prepared, you've got  
Detention tonight  
And every night 'til the day you rot  
Yes, it feels so right_…" 

Snape was winding down to the end of the song, and then, as it had been at breakfast, it all ended as quickly as it had begun. The music halted and silence reigned; the heat dissipated and the Potions lab returned to its cool, dank norm.

And then there was a quick scuffle and shuffling of feet as everyone backed away from their partner, offering sheepish apologies, commiserating smiles and understanding laughter. There was a harsh snarl as the Potions Master glared at his wand, which he promptly let fall onto his bench top, then around the class, before issuing a growl and stalking out. And there was a squeaky "Meep!" as one Harry Potter stood frozen for a second – staring at one Draco Malfoy.

And then he turned and fled, much in the same path the professor had taken only moments ago, after he had disentangled himself from the blonde's arms.

Harry was only vaguely aware of running. He didn't know where he was, or where he was going, all he could comprehend doing was getting as far away as possible from Draco Malfoy. His head swam with what they had done, and the imminent confusion that had arose from it. He didn't know why he was confused about it, though, and that only complicated things further.

He didn't have any reason to be confused. There really was nothing to it, after all. It was just the spell, and everything that had happened was an effect of the spell, so it wasn't really as if he had – enjoyed – it, right? _Yes, that's right_, he told himself firmly. He most certainly had not been oddly enraptured with the sight of Draco's face when they were submitted to the music, with his appealingly half-lidded eyes and full curving lips. And he had definitely not felt a spark when their skin brushed together. And yet, his brain was stubbornly remaining muddled, caught up with the sensations he had felt when…when…Harry really didn't want to think about it, and yet he found himself reliving the moment.

It had been maybe halfway through the song – somewhere around Snape's mad embellishments. Draco's hand had ghosted casually across Harry's neck, and despite himself, the raven-haired boy inhaled sharply, something that did not escape the notice of his partner. But neither of them commented, Harry didn't know if it was because the spell probably wouldn't let them get away with talking, or perhaps Draco hadn't heard his breath catch after all. Either way, he supposed, he had been appreciative - it would have been just too uncomfortable for either of them to talk while in such close proximity, it would have seemed to be a very intimate conversation if they had.

Unbeknownst to him, back in the dungeons, Draco, who had watched the Gryffindor bolt out of the Potions lab, was also reliving the act, and having similar thoughts. It would have been too awkward for either of them to start a civil exchange while within each other's personal space, and in any case, for one of the first times in his life, Draco hadn't really had a clue as to what he could possibly say. They had been dancing together, very closely – he reckoned it was simply the spell – when Draco had brought his hands up to Harry's neck to bring them even closer still. As he had lightly grazed the skin, he heard Harry gasp slightly – or at least, he thought he had. They had not said a word, however, and had merely kept on dancing in the ridiculously provocative manner that was required. The both of them simply let it pass as if it was common occurrence that needed no expanding upon. However, it definitely was not, therefore other boy's silence had been unnerving; and Draco now found that he wanted quite badly to know what exactly was running through Harry's mind regarding the fact that only minutes ago, their hips were not even an inch apart.

Because, if Draco was honest with himself, he had rather enjoyed it.

* * *

AN: _Alright, first up, a quick_ **disclaimer**:_ the song that I had the dear snarky one sing was an odd, er...manipulation (read: complete butchering) of_ _**Marvin Gaye**'s_ Sexual Healing_, and that obviously doesnt belong to me. And for any who are wondering, I'm picturing Snape with a very_ _Luther Vandross-Marvin Gaye-and-older-Craig David sort of style. He's definitely got the voice for it, and can't you just imagine him being completely passionate about making his student's lives miserable?_

_Second- I'm really really really really sorry about the long wait - I forgot that I would be back home for a holiday and ergo have no net access - thanks for being patient, I promise the next update wont take quite as long. _

_Next up, a big big big thank you to my wonderful reviewers, you guys make me so happy that you're all enjoying this! Er, dont usually do individual responses, I'm really bad at them, but thanks to each and every one of you!! **I like black stuff; yasminz; IloveHPstuff;** **Jeffrey Granger; soclosetolife; Shooter O'Brien; Lia Tween; AmethystxX;** **Somnia Lustre** (The idea for show/karaoke tunes was a great one, care to recommend any in particular?);** jess; silverkitten** (ah, thank you for pointing it out to me, I've went to search for it and read it, and I guess there's a little bit of a similarity, but I did disclaim the idea as being Joss Whedon's, which is where the other story had some roots in as well. Nonetheless, thanks for bringing it up, I hope you like my humble, wacky little story anyway);** Lara Black;** **Angie Chick; Sara; **and** willowseth!** You guys rock and roll. _

_Finally, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, and if you did, would you all mind leaving me yet another **review**? Yes, I know, I'm so needy. But hey, I promise I wont keep you guys waiting so long this time! So be nice and feed the author!_


	4. Interlude in the Room of Requirement

**AN: **_For_** ratings, summary** _and the_ **fearsome disclaimer**_, refer to the first chapter.   
But I'll reinforce my main_** pairing**_, with a nice little warning now: This is a **Harry** and **Draco **__slash__, people. Which means,_ _gasp, shock, horror, they're __both boys__, and they **like** (and will even possibly loooove) each other! Egads! And they sing and dance, too!   
So dont tell me you didnt see it coming.   
Sigh. I'm too caustic. Forgive me. You know I love all you people, as long as you love me and my slash obsession. Now on with the show!_

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**Sing It Again!**

by** juxtaposed**

Chapter Three: Interlude in the Room of Requirement

Snape's outburst of song and its subsequent consequences were hot gossip, and the news spread like wildfire across the school. As such the Potions Master was now dealing detentions the minute he entered classes in an effort to curtail remarks and requests for "a song, sir?" – that misfortunate student had last been seen covered in mysterious boils and tap-dancing uncontrollably towards Filch's office. Most other students, however, had the good sense to keep their mouths shut, and for the rest of the day the dungeons were unnaturally silent.

Harry would probably have felt extremely sympathetic toward his professor, had he known. After all, he himself was rather terrified of facing everyone after his dance with Draco, and was quite prepared for a whole onslaught of remarks regarding his uber-fast retreat from the dungeons following said dance, but thankfully none came.

Of course, this could have had something to do with the fact that Harry had temporarily disappeared.

After running from the dungeons, Harry had skipped his next two classes and lunch, hiding out in the Room of Requirement, which had kindly provided him with a large, warm squishy couch, bottles of Butterbeer and boxes of chocolate. He had spent the next three hours wallowing in something very akin to shame.

He had danced with Draco Malfoy.

Not only had he danced, he had _dirty danced_ with Draco.

And despite his staunchest insistence that he really didn't, he had a deeply-buried, niggling feeling that he had maybe been more than, er…_piqued_ by it.

It had, after all, taken a good half hour before his, eh…_pique_ had been calmed.

Harry took another hearty sip of Butterbeer and a big bite of a piece of chocolate, which was what he had resorted to doing every time he thought about his traitorous body's reaction to being so close to Draco Malfoy, bane of his existence – no matter that Draco really was quite an attractive boy, very possibly the most attractive boy that Harry had known. Even more so than Oliver Wood and his rugged looks or Cedric Diggory with his pin-up charms, but that didn't matter – Draco Malfoy was still 'the enemy' and as such, he shouldn't have been…_piqued_.

Another thought, another swig of Butterbeer, another chunk gone from the bar of chocolate.

At this point, Harry was more-than-just-slightly tipsy, but remarkably calm.

It was in this state that Draco found him in, three hours after the Potions class incident.

Now, it hadn't been his plan, exactly, to look for Harry. But since he had heard talk of Harry Potter vanishing, he had been slightly anxious. A casual conversation with some other students had confirmed that Harry had indeed missed all his other morning classes. And when Harry hadn't shown up for lunch…

Draco, despite his crunchy outer shell, really had a soft gooey center. Sort of like a caramel-filled chocolate egg. Or a jelly donut, if the donut part was a bit tougher than soft chewy pastry. The point was – he had his caring side. Sure, it was mostly for himself. But he cared. Sometimes even about other people.

Besides, he couldn't help but feel slightly responsible for Harry's inexplicable vanishing act. After all, from what he gathered, Harry had run out of Potions like a bat from hell, and had not been seen since. So, being the last person that Harry had had…ahem_, contact_ with, it was a rather safe assumption that he had been at least _part_ of the reason for Harry's Olympic-worthy sprint from the dungeons. And since there was nothing to prove otherwise, it was likely that he was also the reason for his sudden estrangement from the rest of the student body.

At first, Draco hadn't been too concerned, as was his way. After all, Harry was the Golden Boy, and surely all of Gryffindor, especially his two best friends, would rise up to the occasion and conduct a castle-wide manhunt for the Boy-Who-Lived. Couldn't have him go missing, after all, what with him still being top of Voldemort's People To Kill List. The teachers, surely, must have been panicking and combing the school for sign of Harry.

Except that at lunch, McGonagall was sitting at the staff table, chatting away happily with Sprout and Flitwick. Professor Snape, of course, couldn't seem to care less; he seemed more concerned about glaring threateningly over the Hall, as if to reinforce his Most Terrifying Teacher position. But even Dumbledore seemed fairly carefree, laughing at something that half-giant oaf Hagrid was telling him.

The Gryffindor table was no different – he saw just about the entire sodding House at their table, except for Harry, of course, who was still MIA. And none of the bloody 'House of the Brave' seemed particularly concerned about their missing hero, which was irking Draco greatly.

Not that _Draco_ was concerned about Harry, of course. That would be preposterous. He didn't really give a damn about the leader of the Golden Trio.

Which was why he was marching over to the other two members, the sidekicks, who were currently talking quietly to each other, all small smiles and blushes – it was making Draco ill. Flirting when their supposed best friend was missing.

But as he got closer and could hear their conversation, he realized that they had finally decided that maybe Harry was taking a little too long to return to the rest of the world.

"I don't know, Hermione," the red-headed weasel was saying. "Maybe we should look for him…"

"Nonsense, Ron," the bushy-haired Granger girl replied dismissively. "You know how Harry gets. He just disappears for hours then shows up again, right as rain."

"But Harry's not usually gone for this long. Its not normal, even for him." Weasley insisted. Draco paused thoughtfully. So apparently, this vanishing act of Harry's was a rather common one. _That would explain everyone's reactions, _he mused.

Granger let out a sigh. "I know, but I really think he just wants time and space to himself, I don't think he'd do anything rash. The Room wouldn't let him." Weasley was looking disconcerted still, so Granger conceded, "We'll look for him after last period, okay?"

Draco nearly spat at them. Some friends they were, leaving Harry to rot in that…room, whichever one they were referring to.

Granger was still speaking. "…up to old Barnabas later, alright?"

Oh, so it was _that_ room. The Room of Requirement. Well.

Not that he cared, of course, but since Harry's friends seemed nonplussed about what was possibly happening to him, Draco decided to take it upon himself to find out. It would be…uh, good blackmail material. Yes, that's it. Blackmail. Not out of any goodness of his heart, or anything.

He resisted the urge to start a confrontation with the sidekicks; it would only waste precious time from his lunch hour. Instead he left the Great Hall and made his way up to that portrait of Barnabas the Barmy on the seventh floor. He found a door already there, and without bothering to knock, turned the knob and walked in.

And so, he found himself looking at one rather disoriented Harry Potter.

"Dr…way…co?" Harry slurred, blinking up at him. "Are you…real?"

Draco just stared.

Harry, Harry Potter, the savior of the Wizarding World, was slumped in a giant lump of a chair, a half-empty bottle of Butterbeer clutched in one hand and a almost-gone bar of chocolate grasped in the other. Around him, several empty bottles littered the ground, and his face was smeared with chocolate as well.

_This _was the boy who was supposed to defeat the most evil wizard of all time?

For once, words failed Draco.

Harry was peering up at him, apparently trying to focus on him, although his head kept bobbing slightly side-to-side. When Draco said nothing, Harry suddenly collapsed back into his chair with a hysterical giggle.

"Oh god, I'm imagining…don't tell me I'm starting to imagine he's here."

Draco was about to speak up and tell Harry that he was indeed there, because he was suddenly very afraid for Harry's sanity, when Harry suddenly continued.

"Bad enough I've been thinking about him all this time…I'm starting to see him too?"

Draco immediately snapped his mouth shut, his interest taking a sharp rise. Boy Wonder was thinking about him? Well. This could prove…educational.

So with a slightly wicked smile on his face, he shut the door behind him and faced Harry, entirely keen on hearing just what exactly he had been thinking about him. Harry was staring up at him with a little bit of wonder in his expression, and Draco remained as he was, smirking silently at Harry, waiting to hear him speak.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Damn it, stupid imaginary Draco…" Harry muttered, narrowing his eyes at Draco, who was vaguely disconcerted – although not unpleasantly – by Harry's use of his first name. "Don't stand there and…and…smirk at me!"

Harry was sure he hadn't drank all that much, and surely chocolate didn't make one hallucinate? But perhaps he had, or perhaps it did, because why – and _how_ else was he suddenly seeing Draco Malfoy in front of him? He felt like snapping at the hallucination, except his head was spinning slightly. And damn it, it was smirking. Why was imaginary Draco smirking just like real Draco? Was it his stupid, treacherous self's way of punishing him for over-indulging? Make the one person I shouldn't be attracted to appear in front of me, wearing the expression that I ought to hate?

"Stop smirking," growled Harry, at whom, he didn't know. It could have been directed at imaginary-Draco, or himself for creating the imaginary-Draco in the first place. "I don't find it sexy! You hear me?" he half-yelled, half-slurred at it, or himself. "I don't! It's…not…sexy…not…Draco!"

Draco's smirk was stretched wide across his face as he listened to Harry, and observed as the Gryffindor ranted at no one in particular. So, this was Harry drunk, or high…or both… Apparently Harry was one of those people who spoke their minds when inebriated. So, this, all that Harry was saying…it was what Harry thought…

And Harry thought he was sexy.

_Interesting._

_Very interesting._

Draco's smirk widened just that little bit more.

* * *

AN: _So there you all go, no singing in this chapter - is that good or bad? - but its a slightly longer chapter and it was written just so that, besides using the word "pique" three times, getting to call Draco a caramel-filled chocolate egg and a jelly donut, I could have Harry completely sloshed and Draco witness it. I'm sadistic that way. Feel free to berate me, as long as you do it in a **review.** (big cheesy grin)_

_Speaking of, may love and lust befall all of you who have so graciously reviewed:   
**I like black stuff, Rose Petals, Prophetess of Hearts, AmethystxX, zina, wwwendy, Lilsi, Tigris T Draconis, Mac Black, musicgirl141, **and **elethoniel. Somnia Lustre **(you absolutely rock as a reviewer, thanks so much!)**, **and **jelly-bean5** (Your review made my day!).  
I have no socks now because you guys rocked 'em off. I love all that you guys have to say to me, even the death threats. I do apologize to any of you who were freaked out by either Snape's singing or the saucy dancing, but ya cant say I didnt warn you. (grin)_

_Two quick last notes. One, for all of you reading "Dessert", chapter two is on its way, and its rating will be R, for you smutty slash lovers. Two, I'm plugging my LJ, cause its lonely. Besides, over there you can bug me to write as much as you want. The link is in my bio. Now, I'm done. _


	5. Bloody Blessed Boy

**AN: **_**Warning**: this story contains spontaneous **singing, dancing**, and lots of preordained **boy-slash** goodness. Reader discrepancy is advised. It is recommended for audiences who are twisted enough to enjoy such things. Also, the authoress pleads that no one attempts to sue her, as she needs lunch money for her university's exorbitant café, and also because she whole-heartedly acknowledges that the characters and locations are the creation of one _**JK Rowling**_ and that the plot is a not-so-cleverly-disguised take on one belonging to the uber-genius himself, _**Joss Whedon**_. Finally, it has to be noted once again that this is a Harry-Draco slash story, so if that's not your cup of tea, go grab some coffee with your browser's back button, but if it is, grab a cookie (hands out cookie) and enjoy!_

* * *

****

**Sing It Again!**

by **juxtaposed**

Chapter Four: Bloody Blessed Boy

Harry watched as Draco-the-hallucination kept on smirking – in fact, his smirk seemed to be getting bigger, if that was even possible. He rolled his eyes at himself. "Figures," he muttered aloud. "Even in my thoughts Draco can't just be a nice, non-smarmy guy."

Draco was all prepared with a sharp retort, but seeing as how that would blow his cover beyond all recognition, he bit down on his tongue – literally, leaving him to wince at the pain.

Luckily Harry's head was now buried face-down into his palms, and he didn't see that "imaginary" Draco was acting of his own volition.

_Must be more careful_, Draco chided himself. _I wont always be so fortunate. _

Just then, Harry lifted his head and stared at Draco. "You're not going to go, are you?" The blonde paused, not quite sure if he was supposed to answer. His question was answered as Harry kept on talking, not awaiting any response from his hallucination. "You're just going to stay here and plague me, the way you plague my thoughts."

Draco watched as Harry lifted the Butterbeer bottle to his lips, oddly overcome with the urge to rip the drink out of his hands – the boy was drunk enough, and somehow Draco didn't like seeing the usually well-adjusted Gryffindor so out of control. It was rather disconcerting, and more than a tiny bit frightening. But he did nothing, he couldn't have done much without giving himself away; he just waited, hoping that Harry would either run out of drink, or would gain the sense to stop.

He watched some more as Harry bit down into the last bit of the chocolate in his hand and closed his eyes in bliss at the taste. Draco couldn't help it; he felt the beginning of some…stirrings. As much as it was worrying, seeing Harry completely uninhibited, it was also very perversely gratifying – in more ways than one. He knew it was oh-so-twisted, it was a nasty, voyeuristic piece of business to be watching Harry so unrestrained in all his actions, and even worse, to enjoy seeing the Golden Boy licking off his chocolate-smeared fingers, and smack his full, rosy lips.

It was wrong, to watch and to enjoy.

But Draco did anyway.

He stood, his eyes focused on the raven-haired boy, who had his startlingly green eyes open again, and was turning his gaze onto Draco once more.

"Draco." Harry murmured quietly. "Draco, Draco…"

Draco stiffened, not at all sure of how he should feel about that, about Harry's soft, repeated sighing of his name in a moment of apparent lucidity.

"You confuse me terribly, you know that?" Harry shook his head slightly, running a hand through and tussling his already messy hair. "And I don't know why you confuse me, which is even more confusing. There ought to be nothing confusing. There's too much confusion." He seemed to be babbling rather incoherently now, but paused and let out a deep sigh. "I mean… You're my archenemy, or whatever, and you hate me…"

It took all of Draco's reserves of self-restraint not to correct this misguided belief.

"And I'm supposed to hate you too, except I don't think I could ever hate anyone besides Voldemort, and not you – you may be a right snotty bastard most of the time but I don't think you're really evil."

It was time to get comfortable, Draco finally decided, as Harry rambled on, voicing out all his tangled thoughts. He sat down across Harry, on his end of the room, just listening to him keep talking.

"And I don't know what you think about that goddamn dance we shared earlier. I don't know why I even care what you think. All I know is that for some stupid reason, I do. I care. And God help me, I can't stop thinking about it, about you."

Harry let out one of those hollow, hysterical laughs that sent a chill running through Draco's spine.

"I'm even imagining you now, and I've started talking to imaginary you."

There was a long pause, and Harry slumped over, as silence reigned in the room for a good few minutes, tension raising Draco's hackles – was Harry alright? Still conscious? Alive?

Just as he was about to give up his act, and cross the room to check, a small whimper issued from the dark-haired boy. "I'm pathetic." There was another mirthless chuckle, then, in the softest, saddest tone Draco had ever heard from Harry, "If you were really here, you'd probably be pissing your pants laughing, and kick me around…"

No, Draco wanted to protest. I wouldn't. Because I'm here now, and I'm not doing either of those things, am I?

"Why can't I get you off my mind?"

Harry's voice left a softly lingering echo in the room, before a quiet strum of an unseen guitar sounded, and Harry stood up, rather uncertainly. A smattering of half-slurred curses made their way from under his breath, whether it was in conjunction with standing up or having to sing, Draco wasn't sure. He just sat, unmoving, and stared up at Harry, oddly enraptured. Harry was shaky on his legs, but remained upright as the music blossomed, and he opened his mouth to sing.

"_You're a pest, Draco…  
__I've never met anyone quite like you.  
__No one else could ever be quite so…"_

His voice was trembling as he began, but relaxed and strengthened as he continued, and Draco noted, with no small amount of awe and mild irritation, that the Golden Gryffindor had yet _another_ talent, a voice as untarnished as his image. It was smooth, slightly deep, and very sweet, in a boyish sort of manner. Of course, his little analysis of Harry's singing voice wasn't a focal point for his attention – the words that were issuing forth from him were. He wanted to know how Harry would describe him.

"_Aggravating and infuriating  
__Annoying and irritating -"_

Draco couldn't help but scowl a little, although he did find it amusing at the same time, so it was tamed into a smirk, which transformed into a small smile as he heard Harry's next words.

"_But still so damn charming  
- When you want to be._

_You know I'm supposed to despise   
__You, and it was going quite well  
__But I stupidly looked into your eyes  
__And now…now…"_

Harry trailed off a little, looking rather pensive and contemplative and all sorts of thoughtful, making Draco rather want to throttle him for leaving him hanging like that. _Now what?_ His mind desperately wanted to know. Not that he really cared what Harry thought of him, of course. It wouldn't matter at all, they were still rivals and all that. But now what? He was on the verge of hexing the Gryffindor, for it looked like he had stopped singing, even the mellow rock-type music was lulling. But then Harry inhaled deeply, and resumed his song, after a particularly impressive guitar riff was heard.

"_Now I'm stuck here thinking of you -  
I can't get you out of my mind  
And I'm beginning to think that maybe it's alright…_

_That maybe its okay  
If I want to get to know you   
__If I want to…" _

Harry sighed softly, and the chords changed slightly before he continued. Now the song seemed to have changed its mood as well, it was a decidedly more edgy, harder track, and Harry's voice_, damn the blessed boy_, had adapted flawlessly to suit it.

"_But that's stupid, of course  
__Because you're smart   
__And you hate me just the way you're supposed to  
__Because you're smart   
__And you don't start thinking that I'm cute  
__Because you're smart  
__And I'm so dumb to feel the way I do  
__Because you're smart  
__And nothing will ever happen with me and you."_

With the last verse, Harry seemed to attempt something vaguely resembling air guitar, or a strut, or some other sort of rock-star kind of action. Whatever his intention was, Draco was fairly sure it had turned out nothing like Harry had intended it to. He was horribly tipsy, and his moves were clumsy – in fact, Draco thought even if all the goblins at Gringotts tried to tap dance in sync it wouldn't be as uncoordinated as what he was observing now.

And yet, with a surge of annoyance, he still found it the most adorable thing he'd ever witnessed.

Plus, Harry's voice really was one of the best he'd ever heard – apparently, alcohol only affected his coordination and not his vocal chords.

_Damn that bloody blessed Gryffindor._

The music ended rather abruptly – as it always seemed to do, and Harry lurched forward, rather breathlessly. Straight into Draco's arms.

Draco's entirely corporeal, non-imaginary, non-hallucinatory arms.

* * *

AN: _Yes, cliffhanger! I'm evil, I know. Its a talent. One talent I dont have, however...(cringes) er...I do not even pretend to be a songwriter (or hell, even poet) of any sort, so do forgive me for that horrible bit of verse, it was just to get the point across, and in any case, Harry's tipsy as all hell so of course he's not coherent, and I'm rambling, so there! That's my final word on it. For more words, visit my **LJ**…please? It's lonely, and like me, it gets whiny when lonely._

_Eternal thanks go, as usual, to the following people, who deserve long lives, massive riches, and explosive orgasms:  
**moseys-dragon, zina, Prophetess of Hearts, Lilsi, vampedpixie, musicgirl141, X-mas Gurl, bajs, Nyoka Li, Taelor, lissa james, Kara Fain** and **jess.** (Thank you all so much!! (glomps))  
**wwwendy **(dont worry, they'll be moving at a nice shuffle, or waltz)**, **  
**I like black stuff** ("Doctor Wayco"? You sure you haven't had a bit of Butterbeer yourself?(grin))__**,   
Somnia Lustre **(RoR definitely a very useful plot device, hehe)**, **  
**Tigris T Draconis** (You'll have to wait a little bit more, I'm afraid...)**, **&  
__**Electra **(I'm just making it alcoholic anyway (grin), and thank you thank you for all the other reviews!)__**   
**I'm thrilled beyond thrilled that you guys seemed to like the pastry-Draco remarks, and tipsy Harry being "piqued". Also that the non-singing-ness went over well. Happy, happy. Those of you who I have lured into this fic of mine, I'm glad you decided to venture. _:)

_Now, be nice to me and leave a **review**, as so far you have all been doing a marvelous, astronomical job…and also because I'm going to very subtly bribe you all with the next chapter of not only this, but my other stories (and yes, that includes _Dessert_) as well, if you do. Ignore the fact that I didn't say "soon", and just focus on "next chapter"._ :)


	6. Youre Real?

**AN:** _You know the drill by now, yeah? So lets not have me ramble. Let's just have me presenting the story, you say? Fine. Only out of the goodness of my heart._

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**Sing It Again!  
**by** juxtaposed**

****

Chapter Five: You're _Real?_

The impact of that little nugget struck both boys at vaguely the same time.

Harry's eyes widened.

Draco's eyes widened.

Harry immediately lifted himself up from Draco's arms, pulling away sharply, as Draco immediately drew his arms back to his sides.

Harry stared at Draco.

Draco stared at Harry.

Harry's heart stopped.

Draco's heart stopped. 

And then –

"Draco," Harry managed to choke out. Which, really, as far as he was concerned, was an impressive feat, seeing as how he suddenly felt asphyxiated, as if an unseen hand was wrapped around his throat, closing in tightly… And then there was the not-so-tiny problem of his drinking and chocolate binge – alcohol seemed to be flooding his brain and draining from it all at once, leaving him more than a little woozy; the calm he had gained from the chocolate was coalescing into a heavy-duty sedative. It was almost a physical battle for him not to just faint dead to the floor, and yet now he was expected to deal with…with… "Draco," he managed again.

Draco could only cope with standing there and staring at him, stock-still, completely at his wits end over what to do now. His usual Malfoy cool seemed to have vanished right along with Harry's notion that he had not been real. His usual Slytherin cunning seemed to have abandoned him as well, as Slytherins were only notorious for their sly ways but not loyalty or courage, _damn it_.

"You're…real…" Harry stammered. Then a hot flush rose to his face, coloring it deep crimson. Draco wasn't sure if it was anger, or embarrassment, but he decided it didn't matter, he was screwed either way.

The full implications of Draco being solid, real, and _there_ was finally sinking into Harry's skull, and he felt his heart simultaneously sink and leap into his throat.

"You're real," he whispered with the resignation of a man sentenced to death. Which he might as well have been, Harry felt. He had, after all, if his hazy post-drunkenness could be trusted, rambled on to what he had imagined to be a hallucination of Draco, about his feelings and thoughts about said supposed-hallucination. Supposed-hallucination who was, as things would have it, was his mortal archenemy, and therefore was _not_ someone who he should have revealed all to.

A part of Harry – the part of Harry that was wallowing in denial, Egypt – argued that it was understandable, that he was drunk, and that he had thought that Draco was not real.

Only, as only fate would be so cruel to do to him, it turned out that it had _not_ been his imagination, and Draco Malfoy, live, corporeal, _very real_ Draco Malfoy had indeed been there, and had heard every word.

_Every word._

Not only Draco had seen Harry at one of his worst; he had heard Harry's innermost thoughts.

He had heard Harry _sing_.

And all this, Harry couldn't help but groan audibly, less than four hours after he had dirty danced with him.

Someone up there _really_ did not like him.

Either that, or this was a very sick, very twisted plan of Voldemort to finally defeat Harry – drive him insane via his nemesis, who – though it might have been the alcohol; well, Harry was _hoping_ – desperately – that it was the alcohol – happened to be insanely attractive and largely too sexy for Harry's liking.

_And I think I may have said that out loud, as well. Oh dear God, Draco Malfoy has now not only seen me sloshed on Butterbeer, high on chocolate and singing…he would have heard me say that I think he's sexy._ Horror began to flood Harry's mind in tsunami-sized waves.

"Oh, god," Harry was beginning his hysterical, humorless laughter again. Draco was beginning to seriously contemplate the current stability of the Gryffindor's mind. "You're real. And you're here."

Harry's shock was slowly dissolving into fear of what Draco might do with the information he had gleaned from Harry's little heart-pouring, then into embarrassment when he considered Draco's possible reactions to said heart-pouring, and it finally coalesced into a sort of indignation, and self-righteous anger, that Draco had been _real_ this whole time, and _there_, and had not said a word, that he had just stood there and witnessed Harry make a complete and utter jackass of himself.

But then it all crumbled back into anxiety and fear, and it became a long, vicious cycle. He was riding a rollercoaster of tumultuous emotions at breakneck speed. And although it was fast wearing off, the alcohol in his system weren't helping things any. He was now not only angry, humiliated and terrified, he was nauseous.

Draco, just over a foot away from Harry, was also experiencing similar turbulence in his emotional and mental state. He felt the overwhelming need to apologize, which struck him as odd, because Draco Malfoy most certainly did not apologize to anyone besides his parents and Professor Snape. And definitely not Harry _bloody blessed to perfection _Potter.

But there was something about Harry's desolate disposition that compelled him into wanting to say sorry to the raven-haired Gryffindor, that stopped him from simply making a scathing comment and leaving, taking with him very good blackmail and compromising knowledge of the Boy-Who-Lived.

_Damn it, I'm getting soft_.

This was a double entendre of sorts, and although it was entirely inappropriate for the situation he now found himself in, Draco snorted.

With that sound, Harry's indecision over his feelings finally settled on anger, tempered with embarrassment. "What the hell are you doing here, Dra – Malfoy?" he snapped at the blonde.

Harry's near-slip did not go unnoticed by Draco.

"I -" Draco began, then hesitated. What could he possibly say to Harry? _I'm sorry, I just came to see if you were alive, and instead got a viewing of your personal thoughts?_

Draco's reluctance to say anything only fueled Harry's indignation. "And why did you tell me you were real, for God's sake? I suppose you thought it was funny to see me like that, right? And it was even funnier to screw with my head and make me think I was hallucinating about you? Well, _fine_. Why don't you just go now, run off to the snake pit and tell all the other Slytherins how mentally unstable Harry Potter is? Tell them that I've been drinking and getting high and oh, _here's the clincher!_ Tell them that I thought about you, and sang about you, and that _I think you're cute!"_

Draco remained frozen where he was, staring at Harry unblinkingly. Vaguely, the fact that Harry had just admitted to thinking – and _still _thinking – he was cute had found its way into his head, but right then he was faced with Harry's wrath, and he was a little too occupied to care. For an angry Harry was not a good Harry. This, after all, was the boy who was supposed to be able to defeat one of the greatest Dark Lords ever, ergo, having him pissed off at you was really not the smartest thing to do, Draco realized.

Harry was getting even more agitated with Draco's non-movement. "Well?" he yelled. "What the hell are you waiting for? GO! Just go and have your fun _ruining my life!"_

Draco winced at the volume of Harry's shout, but somehow managed to look the other boy straight in the eye. "I wouldn't – I'd never – I didn't mean to hurt you," he said in a rush, faltering on the words. Harry was staring at him, his face blank except for the traces of anger. As Draco's words sunk in, bewilderment marred his handsome features.

"W-wha-?" Clearly, of all the things Harry had expected to hear from Draco's extremely well-shaped mouth, that most certainly had not been it.

Draco watched as Harry's green, green eyes slowly softened, watched as the anger melted into a swirl of uncertainty, watched as little flecks of light made the emerald shimmer and sparkle, watched as darker bits of shadow gave it depth. They were hypnotic, and suddenly Draco felt his breath catch, and his chest constrict, and then he was overwhelmed with a growing compulsion to do _something_.

Harry seemed to be extremely confused, bless the silly little Gryffindor, and was blinking at Draco. "What are you on about, D - um, Malfoy?"

The way Harry's lips moved when he spoke were as mesmeric as his eyes, Draco couldn't help but notice. It was soft and sensuous and adrenaline pumped through his blood when he saw Harry nervously chew on his lip, and his urge to make a move, any move, grew tenfold.

"I said," Draco repeated, clearing his throat, moving closer to Harry, "I didn't mean to hurt you," and then the need to act became too strong. With one last long look into brilliant green eyes as his own slid shut, he did the only thing his Slytherin mind would have him do.

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AN: _Whee! Another cliffhanger! And I know, I know, Cliffy is the meanest guy in the world who goes around snagging your cookies, but we all love a good Slytherin-type, and I just couldn't resist his charms. Forgive my lack of self-restraint? (grin) And another non-singing chapter, but thats because this all happens in one go, and I doubt they'll burst into song after song within minutes..._

_Thanks as always to my lovely, wonderful, fantabulous, utterly snoggable reviewers:  
**moseys-dragon **(if they ever did that in the movies...I'd die happy)**, I like black stuff** (well, we all love gullible Harry, dont we now?)**, the 100 original BLAH, CauscadaLover, joymouse-8675309 **(um, I'll take that in a good way, and no, this story is far from over! _:)_)**, Lilsi, Fireblade K'Chona, Kara Fain** (Er, no, not particular tune for that one, just imagine your own _:)_)**, musicgirl141** (the very fact that you told me I rock makes me love you to cookie crumbles)**, Kaydera, Imigo, Puppy Kicker, Somnia Lustre **(oh thanks so much...I'm glad you like my portrayals!)**, Lucky Dragon Smile, bajs, SpikedDraco, X-mas Girl **(I'd personally die without the internet, so yay for you!)**, ronslilprincess.**_

_Now, I honestly, genuinely, truly have **no shame**, and so I shall say: It is **my birthday** tomorrow, people! (Which, yes, is why I posted. Tis a **celebration!**) Make this authoress happy and bless her with** reviews**! And she in turn will reciprocate with ample hugs, kisses and chocolate-flavored, singing, dancing HP characters. And yes, possibly less cliffhangers. All you have to do is** review**!_

_P/S – Death threats will be filed away in my cabinet, to inspire me when I'm stuck behind a writer's block. Bribes and gifts will adorn my table, to guilt trip me into hurrying with my writing. Choose wisely._


	7. What Draco Did

AN: **Summary, disclaimer, rating, pairings**_, etcetera, can be found in the prologue chapter. Extra _**warning **_for this chapter: singing, and extreme madness._

__

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**Sing It Again!****  
**by** juxtaposed**

Chapter Six: What Draco Did

He inhaled deeply, then turned, and fled.

Harry stared, completely perplexed, at the blonde as he bolted out of the room and ran down the hallway, back to the dungeons, presumably. He listened as the madly pounding footsteps faded, then released a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

_What the hell was that all about?_

He sank back down into his large, squishy chair, his mind whirling with what had just transpired.

_I just admitted – again – to Draco Malfoy that I thought he was good looking. And he didn't hex me, or make fun of me, or sneer at me or laugh, or anything. He actually told me he didn't mean to hurt me. And oh dear god he had been so close when he had said that – not that I care, why should I care that he was so close – again – that I could smell him – again – and not that I care, really, I don't feel anything over it, but god damn it, why does Draco Malfoy smell so damn good?_

Harry shifted about in his seat, dangerously close to becoming _piqued_ all over again.

The Room of Requirement, sensing his mood, materialized a few more bottles of Butterbeer and chocolate to his side.

* * *

Draco had run straight to his private room, drawing baffled and anxious looks from his Housemates in the Slytherin common room, because Slytherins, especially _Draco Malfoy_, never _ran_ anywhere if could be helped, it was simply too undignified. And the fact that he had locked the door behind him, while a common occurrence, in this case only served to heighten their curiosity and worry, especially Blaise and Pansy, who stared unblinkingly at the retreating boy and his door as it was slammed shut.

Blaise casually returned to flipping through his Potions text, as he addressed Pansy. "Its your turn."

Pansy glared at him. "No, it's _your _turn. I went the last time. I still have the _blemish marks_ to prove it."

"Yours are wearing off in a couple of days. _I_ still have _this haircut_," Blaise countered. "And will for the next _week and a half_."

Pansy scowled, but eyed Blaise's hair and nodded grudgingly. Then she suddenly paused and looked up around them at the rest of the students in the common room, most of whom were trying to sneak out unnoticed. "Oi, you lot!"

A group of first years froze, terrified, while the rest, older and experienced, took this as their cue to dash out – one of the few instances that many a Slytherin would be found running.

Blaise glanced at the first years, and he and Pansy shared a wicked grin. "Come here, you lot…you're going to have, a, ah, _learning_ experience." In a quieter, more thoughtful tone, regretfully running his hand through his own uneven hair, he mused, "I hope none of you are all that precious about your looks yet."

* * *

"Oh, bugger, bugger, bugger."

Inside, Draco was now pacing the length of his room, cursing under his breath. His wand danced in the air as he cast several spells that left half of the items in his room in pieces and then repaired them, only to repeat the process several times. A soft, timid knock sounded at the door, and he whirled in mid-flick, growling.

"Whoever it is, I am _not_ in the mood to see you, and you are a breath away from having bad skin for the next two weeks."

There was a soft 'meep!', then the sound of quickly retreating footsteps.

Draco resumed his pacing and cursing.

"Bugger, bugger, bugger it all to hell!"

_I am Draco Lucius Malfoy. I am the prince of Slytherin House. I am the heir of the Malfoy estate. I am poised and possessed and always perfectly composed._

_And yet. I go and do something as stupid as allow myself to be revealed when spying on Harry Potter, and then come this close to apologizing to him. _

_Stupid._

_If Father ever found out…_

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. Stupid brain, stupid mouth."

Draco rather wished that he knew what exactly triggered the unpredictable music cues, because then he might have kept his mouth shut. Instead, as it stood, a guitar – his own, personal guitar nonetheless, he realized in astonishment – materialized in his arms suddenly, and he nearly stumbled, attempting to steady himself under the sudden bulk.

Knowing it was futile to resist, Draco allowed his hands to fly over the strings into position, and he began to pluck at the strings, and then sing, accompanied by the casual rhythm of unseen drums.

"_My stupid mouth  
Has got me in trouble  
I said too much again…_"

* * *

"Hermione," sighed Ron, pushing away his History of Magic text in disgust. "Can't we go look for Harry now?"

"Ron," Hermione hissed in return. "We are still _in class_."

"But it's _Binns_," he retorted. "He wont notice whether we're here or not, and I'm sick of looking at this." He half-heartedly swiped at his book again.

"It's not even ten minutes into class, and you don't even read your text, you draw obscene scribbles all over it. _I've seen them_," she said, before he could argue.

"Well," Ron made a face. "I've run out of space to doodle. And I'm worried about Harry. And Binns isn't even teaching, so its not like you're missing anything."

Hermione cast a glance over at their teacher, who, sure enough, was drifting on the spot in front of the classroom, humming a very bad rendition of Beethoven's 9th Symphony to himself and not even looking at his notes. The rest of the class, she noticed then, had taken advantage of their professor's ignorance and left twenty seconds after he'd started humming.

"Very well then," she sighed. "Let's go look for Harry. He's probably still in the Room of Requirement."

Ron was already waiting for her at the door, both of their book bags in hand.

* * *

Back up in said Room of Requirement, the same music as in the dungeons was being played, with a slightly edgier tone to it – a heavier bass and more electric guitar riffs, as Harry, to his chagrin, once more found himself abandoning his comfort-seeking and self-wallowing in favor of singing. He was only thankful that this time he was alone, as the words tumbled out of his mouth. He didn't notice that the door was still ajar, and his voice, strong and husky in this song, was carrying out into the corridor.

_   
  
"To Malfoy when I got drunk yesterday  
And I could see  
He was just baffled  
He didn't say a damn thing  
Just ran off before I could explain…"_

_

* * *

_

"_Oh, another social casualty  
Score one more for me  
How could I forget?  
Father always said 'think before speaking'  
No filter in my head  
Oh, what's a boy to do  
I guess he better find one soon…_"

Draco settled himself down into an armchair as he kept on strumming gently. He barely listened to the words he sang, just allowing his voice – smooth, quiet, almost soft – to carry across his room. Hints of it drifted out of his room, and down towards the Slytherin common room, where Blaise and Pansy lifted their heads and glanced at each other, then to the direction of Draco's room.

"I hear – music." Blaise stated. "Do you hear music?"

"Is that Draco?" Pansy asked in response, not answering Blaise. "Those first years are _useless_."

The two exchanged looks again, then got up to investigate.

* * *

"I hear - music," Ron paused in his steps. "Do you hear music?"

"Is that Harry?" Hermione cocked her head to listen. "Oh dear, maybe we _should_ have come earlier."

The two exchanged glances, then hurried their pace towards the Room of Requirement.

_"We bit our lips  
He looked uncomfortable  
All he did was stand there and stare  
I finally stopped scoffing my chocolate and Butterbeer - "_

Harry glanced down at the offending objects and pushed himself up out of his chair, making his way over to the window, where he sat on the sill and stared out, not paying attention to his surroundings and simply continuing to sing.

_"And I could see clearly  
An indelible line was drawn  
Between what was good, what just slipped out and what went wrong…"_

He never noticed when Ron and Hermione arrived, hesitating at the door as they listened to him, and exchanging confused looks.

* * *

"You knock," Blaise said. "Its quiet."

Pansy glared at him. "Me? Why me?"

"Yes, you. Because I don't want to prolong this haircut – or get something worse."

"Oh, and I suppose you think I do. _No_._ You_ knock. You're his best friend."

"That didn't stop him from ruining my hair. _You've _known him forever."

Pansy glanced around. "I wonder if there are any more first years who haven't learned to hide from us yet."

"_Oh, the way he feels about me has changed  
I know, cause he said it again and again - _"

"You know, he has a good set of pipes on him," Blaise remarked casually as Draco began singing again.

Pansy nodded, then suddenly frowned slightly and pressed her ear to Draco's door. "Wait, is he playing his _guitar?_"

Blaise scrambled to press his ear right next to hers. "I think he is," he breathed. "He's playing his guitar, Pansy. He's playing his _guitar_. _Knock already._"

Pansy's hand was almost at the door when she suddenly paused. "No," she shook her head firmly trying to clear it. "_No_. You want it so badly, _you_ knock."

"You want it too," Blaise reminded her. "It's Draco _playing his guitar_. Come on, I know you want to…just knock."

"Stop telling me that!" Pansy hissed at him.

"_So should I regret  
Since now I know what he's thinking  
That I said what I'd said -"_

"I will when you knock," Blaise replied blithely. "What _is_ that boy singing about?"

Pansy shrugged. "I don't know," she sulked. "I'm not knocking."

_"But what's a boy to do  
After all what's done is done…_"

"He really is good, isn't he?" Pansy sighed. She looked at her hand, then at Draco's door. Gingerly she touched her hand to her cheek and sighed again wistfully. "Ah, dear complexion…you'll be flawless again one day," she murmured apologetically to her skin.

Blaise didn't even bother to hide his grin.

* * *

"Blimey," Ron said under his breath, his eyes wide.

Hermione nodded furtively, her eyes equally wide.

Harry was now leaning back on the wall, his head thrown back, eyes shut and his hands clenched into dramatic fists in front of him as he belted out,

"_I'm never speaking up again  
It only hurts me  
I'd rather be in misery  
Than have him hear me  
Oh I'm never speaking up again  
Starting now -_"

"Blimey," Ron said again.

This time, Harry heard him, and spun around to face his best friends staring at him in wonder. His emerald eyes widened, and his mouth opened wordlessly.

* * *

"Merlin," Blaise breathed.

Pansy nodded furtively. It would seem she was extraordinarily lucky, for before her knuckles could even touch Draco's door, it had flung itself open, therefore absolving her of immediate responsibility. Meanwhile, the blonde inside was revealed to them, still perched in his armchair, legs crossed, guitar firmly nestled on his lap as his fingers danced over the strings. He'd looked up, startled and indignant, when his door had thrown itself open and revealed his two best friends half-crouched awkwardly in the doorway. He had not, however, yelled at them, instead, he'd frowned, and opened his mouth, and out came,

"_One more thing:  
Could this be my fault?  
Maybe I was being too harsh  
But it's all because of this desire…_"

This had not gone over so well with him, as his face had twisted into a scowl of sorts and he'd made vaguely threatening noises and gestures to his friends, who had rather handily just deciphered that as long as the song went on, Draco couldn't control his actions, they would therefore not be murdered on the spot, and so they'd exchanged bright grins, straightened up where they were, and watched.

Prepared to run as soon as the song ended, of course.

They _were_ Slytherins, after all.

* * *

Harry was now also discovering that as long as he was condemned to singing, he would not possess the ability to act of his own accord. Much to his displeasure, he was discovering this not only for the second time, but the second time in front of an audience.

Upon seeing his best friends, he'd meant to go "eep!" and run off, perhaps retreat to sanctuary in the middle of the Forbidden Forest and never be seen again. Instead, he'd jumped off smoothly from his position on the windowsill and approached his very stunned, very amused friends, and then held his arms out in a very plaintive sort of plea-like gesture, and then sang about his feelings for Draco.

Again.

"_I just wanted him to like  
I just didn't want him to hate me  
Looks like that won't be happening  
Just call me captain backfire…  
  
"Oh, the way I feel about him has changed,  
Thanks to damn Potions class again.  
Why'd I ever take it?"_

Harry was just very, very, very thankful that he'd not sung out Draco's name then as he'd done in the earlier song, because then, as if it wasn't bad enough as it was, him being alone in a room of Butterbeer and chocolate and _singing_, he would have been singing about his er, _piqued_ interest in Draco Malfoy in front of his friends, and then they would never let him out of St Mungo's. But even then, Ron and Hermione had exchanged baffled looks, and remained where they were, determined expressions on their face.

They would find out who Harry was singing about, even if they had to _make_ him.

They _were_ Gryffindors, after all.

* * *

Draco was glaring fiercely at his friends, who were still watching him, as he was still singing and strumming his guitar, even as he mentally went through a list of appropriate retributions. His fingers were itching to remove themselves from his guitar and attach themselves to his wand, where he would then make each of his friend's worst nightmares come true.

"_Father said 'think before speaking'  
No filter in my head  
Oh, what do Malfoys do?  
Well, we go and find one!_"

_So that's 'being as wide as Goyle' for dear Blaise,_ Draco planned,_ and 'looking like Eloise Midgen' for Pansy._

* * *

Harry was trying to edge away from _his_ friends, who were all but full-out gawking at him as he continued to gesticulate in that rather exaggerated manner and swagger confidently around. He was desperate to just bolt out of there, hibernate in his dorm and never let himself be seen ever again.

"_I'm never speaking up again  
It only hurts me  
I'd rather be a mystery  
Than be thought of as crazy…_"

_I bet_, he mused as the music finally seemed to dwindle a little, and his feet twitched in anticipation of fleeing, _I can outrun them both._

* * *

The final line of the song was clear in both rooms, as the music faded out, and only Harry and Draco's voices held out clearly.

"_So, I'm never speaking up again  
Starting…now…_"

When the last note ended in the Room of Requirement, Ron and Hermione, who had anticipated such an event, were already clutching firmly onto Harry's arms – one each – even as he'd tried valiantly to sprint past them.

When the last note ended down in the dungeons, Blaise and Pansy were throwing themselves into separate corners of Draco's rooms, because the door had slammed firmly shut, cutting off their escape, and Draco now had his wand in hand.

"Eep," went Harry, Blaise and Pansy.

"Pounce," went Draco, Hermione and Ron.

* * *

AN: _Eep – and, um, yes, I "eep" - I know this has taken forever, even by my standards, and I really would like to apologize like mad, but (points to lecturers) blame **them**! They're the ones who are piling on a whole bunch of assignments on me, and slowly killing off my brain cells, leaving me slightly unable to write coherently or decently. On the plus side, this chapter is finally done, and is a **lot** longer than the usual chapters, methinks. :)_

_So, I hope you guys all liked this chapter, cause the style might have changed a little, and that it was worth the insanely long wait for which I once more apologize._

_Kindly review and let me know? And go take a peek at my LJ (link in bio) for more H/D (and others) madness, like drabbles and fanart! :) Friend and comment and I'll love you._

_Just a note that the song butchered in this chapter is by the brilliant, fabulous, delectable **John Mayer**._

_Thank you so much to all my sensual, stunning, sexy, smart, superb, sweet, superior, Slytherin reviewers (I love you all) for the wonderful words and birthday wishes!_

**_moseys-dragon_**_ (thank you for the gift!); **Imigo** (thank you for teh very thoughtful present, and um, I'm not really sure where I got my name from, I think I just sort of went 'I like that word, it suits me!' and voila...); **Nyoka Li**; **Aluminum Tomato**; **Chaney** (I hope you eventually find another chapter you liked as much as the first!); **Fireblade K'Chona** (um, thanks, I think?); **musicgirl141 **((munches) yum, thank you so much!); **Lilsi**; **Lucky Dragon Smile** (thank you! (grin)); **Conacha**; **I like black stuff** (shoot Cliffy yourself! Dont make me do the dirty work!); **enternamehere **(your review amused me lots); **Iddeybeff** (hehe, thank you!); **Puppy Kicker** (I think I might love you.); **the 100 original BLAH**;** KeyvieSnape**; **Somnia Lustre **(nah, I wasnt double bluffing, you caught me _:P_); **X-mas Gurl**; and **joymouse-8675309** (dont worry, this is far from done _:) 


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